


Corner Pocket

by voodoochild



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Exhibitionism, Multi, Pool & Billiards, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't have a pool table in your house and expect it NOT to be put to immoral use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner Pocket

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Boardwalk Empire Comment Ficathon](http://cloudytea.livejournal.com/139537.html).

"Oh no, don't let me interrupt," AR drawls, tugging at the knot of his bow tie.

Meyer can feel his face burn, his ass planted on the felt of the table - of _AR's_ pool table - and Charlie between his knees. He honestly meant to just wait in the billiard room for AR to finish his conversation with one of the Tammany boys, but then Charlie had slid his hand in Meyer's pocket and bit his neck playfully and of course Meyer had to retaliate by shoving him against the pool table, which then ended up with Meyer _on_ the pool table and - well, it's hardly unexpected.

It's also not the first time they've used the pool table, but they're not going to tell AR that.

"Thought you were with what's-his-face," Charlie says, fingers wrapped tight around Meyer's hips. Meyer has the insane urge to pull his legs tighter, grind them closer together, just to watch Charlie swear and go white.

"Mr. Hines, Charlie. Though I understand why you might be distracted just now."

AR's gaze skates over Meyer, and if Meyer didn't suspect his boss of occasional speculative and lustful thoughts toward himself before, he definitely knows now. Charlie fucks and tells - Meyer has very, very fond memories of tying Charlie to his bed and refusing to touch him until he told Meyer what AR was like in the sack in explicit detail - but there is a very large difference between sharing dirty secrets and having the man himself in the room.

Meyer pulls his voice together and makes the valiant attempt to look AR in the eye. "Was your business with Mr. Hines concluded to your satisfaction?"

As if he doesn't have his trousers opened and two buttons popped off his shirt and his tie draped over his shoulder. As if Charlie's vest isn't draped over the table lamp and his trousers around his ankles.

AR saunters over to the table, leaning his hip against it and tugging Charlie's shirt further open. "It was, thank you. I meant what I said, don't let me interrupt. In fact, I'd like it if you continued. You were just making the most delightful noise, Meyer."

Charlie grins - "What, this one?" - and teasingly brushes his knuckles against Meyer's cock. The whine comes out before he can stop it, but it's worth it for the low moan from AR.

"That was the one," he says.

He reaches over to brush the hair off Meyer's forehead, like his fingers need the contact no matter how aloof he wants to play it. Meyer licks his lips, wants AR's hands on more of him than his forehead, but AR pulls away. Settles in, loosened tie and pushed-up sleeves making Meyer itch to pull and unbutton and strip him bare. Charlie snickers against Meyer's throat like he knows what Meyer is thinking, and hooks a finger into AR's watch chain.

"You could help, you know," Charlie says. "Get your hands dirty."

Meyer shivers at the look on AR's face, and the Bankroll pulls away suddenly. He flips the lock on the door, and his eyes gleam in the gaslight.

This is going to be a very, very good story some night.


End file.
